The Scent of Lilacs
by Tricksters Love
Summary: A melancholy one shot with implied pairings and a slight bit of violence.


General disclaimer for things pinched from the Harry Potter books. In fact, this entire fanfiction since (for once) I am not using any OC's. Fancy that.

**The Scent of Lilacs**, a melancholy one shot.

The night should have been a miserable one with a storm shrouding the area for miles in harsh winds and the blackest of clouds. A downpour should have been soaking any poor soul caught outside to their very bone marrow within seconds. Signs should have been ripped from their moorings and flung through windows. Instead it was a pleasantly warm July evening on the coast. A cool breeze gently brushed our hero's unruly hair from his eyes as he tried to summon what remained of his energy. On this beautiful evening he should have been relaxing at home with the people he loved. Talking, laughing, drinking a glass of lemonade. Instead here he was facing down his hated enemy, Draco Malfoy.

The night Lord Voldemort had fallen so too had many of his followers. The Order had ruthlessly cut them down as they tried to escape into obscurity, catching or killing all but one. Tightening his grip on his wand, Harry tried to wet his lips. With a mouth dry as the Sahara desert, this was a harder feat than he was up for. Sighing quietly, he braced himself for the duel to come. Due to the dramatic inclinations of his foe, this final battle was set a top a cliff over looking the black waters of the ocean. His wand, too, was clutched tightly. His knuckles white with the effort or perhaps simply lack of sun. The breeze pushed back the hood that had covered his features previously revealing a haggard face that seemed almost alien.

"Hello Potter, pleasant evening is it not?"

The familiar smirk sent shivers down Harry's spine as memories from that night came rushing back.

"So much like the last time. The chill of winter was already in the air then."

The smirk faded a little, turning sad in the way it always had when he thought no one was looking. Grimly, Harry raised his wand and aimed it at where Draco's heart would have been if he had been born with one. Over and over before he had told himself the feelings he saw were mere imitations. A killer had no heart. Without a heart, it was not a person. It had killed so many people; it had to die. He whispered the curse without another thought. The ground where it had been standing seconds before was scorched black and steaming slightly.

"Nice try Harry but you will have to move quicker than that. Or do you still lack that special feeling that makes it possible to kill? To see the light leave their eyes—"

The fist connected squarely with his face making a satisfying crunching sound as it did. Sending up a hurried barrier, Draco tried to stop the flow of blood from his previously unbroken nose. Harry muttered the incantation to break the barrier his gaze never leaving the bent figure he so hated. The barrier fell away and the two fell to throwing curses at each other. A curse, a counter, another curse, a dodge. Back and forth the spells flew for what seemed an eternity. Then Harry slid behind an outcropping of rock, sheltering for the moment to rest and plan. Draco laughed at the obvious sign of weakness, brandishing his wand with renewed relish.

"Getting tired Potter? You aren't putting up much of a fight. Perhaps what I took away wasn't enough. Pity you have nothing left. All alone, Potter. Nothing left, ah! Except your little nickname. The Boy Who Lived, how far you have fallen. What would your father think if he saw you cowering behind a pile of rocks? Or the bilge rat, Sirius Black? Better yet, the late Remus Lupin. Pity about him, he was such a _wonderful _professor."

Harry rose and yelled as he charged. Draco stared for a split second then scowled and raised his wand.

"Fool."

Harry froze suddenly, his skin glowing an eerie green color. Then he grinned and crumpled inward. Draco cursed as the doppelganger resumed its original form. By then, he had already felt the wand tip being pressed into his lower back. Harry then muttered the spell that had been haunting him all those long years, the spell that had destroyed the person he loved most.

"_Sectumsempra_."

His back was ripped apart brutally and the pale white of his spine bathed in moonlight as dark red blood stained the ground beneath. Draco fell to his knees after a moment, swaying gently with the breeze. He chuckled darkly, gaze darkening at the edges. Breath rasping as he struggled futilely against the tiring blood loss, Draco looked over his executioner.

"Finally. It took you….three long years….to end my….suffering."

His eyes closed as he lost the battle of trying to stay upright and felt through a cloud of numbness the ground hitting his face. Or was it the other way around? Draco could not remember. Roughly he was shoved onto his back, his face once more facing skyward. He succeeded in forcing his eyes open only to see not the night sky but the looming face of his enemy.

"Do you…mind? Trying…to die peacefully…here."

Harry smiled grimly, leaning back slightly to allow a clear view of the cold, distant stars. Quiet descended for a moment as Draco struggled to breathe even though he knew it was pointless. Old habits die hard after all. Just when he thought the question would be left unasked the heartbroken voice of a man who has lost everything broke the silence.

"Why…? I would have killed you…that was what you wanted, so why? Did you delight in torturing me?"

Draco sighed heavily, a difficult feat as he was already having trouble breathing due to the gaping hole in his back.

"In all my life…I never once…knew the feeling of…contentment. I…could have lived…with that, many do. However…"

He paused for a moment to cough, grimacing as blood filled his mouth. Gently, Harry helped him sit up. After purging his mouth of the disgusting gunk, he raised a questioning eyebrow at his enemy wordlessly asking why Harry (of all people) would be courteous to him.

"I'm the good guy, remember?"

Draco managed to smirk, bemused that he could crack jokes at a time…well, at all, considering. Harry merely shook his head slightly. _I also want to hear you out._

"Love…you loved each other….you all did…especially _her_. I saved her…for last…because…"

He coughed again, tears leaking from shadowed eyes.

"Because?"

Harry could not help prompting, urgently even, sensing Death was near.

"Because Harry, I was jealous."

For the first and last time in his life, Draco Malfoy smiled. It was a smile of relief and of sadness but a smile nonetheless. And with those final words, he passed into Deaths hands. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, tilted his head back and howled miserably to the uncaring stars as the cool breeze carried the scent of lilacs across the ocean and into the black night.

_//Lilacs symbolize first love._


End file.
